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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237580">All of The Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamuses/pseuds/mariamuses'>mariamuses</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:40:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamuses/pseuds/mariamuses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>World War II Feysand AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feyre Archeron &amp; Rhysand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a World War II inspired fic, so Hybern would be Germany, Prythian the US and (the king of) Hybern would be the equivalent of Hitler.<br/>Spätzle = egg noodles<br/>VU = Velaris University</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Dear Miss Archeron,</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>The correspondence we have had these last few months has been one of the biggest gifts of my entire existence.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>You see, I met a talented woman through a colleague and we’ve been writing each other for months now, and not only do I get to hear all her wildly fantastic mathematics theories and discuss them with her, but I also discovered an amazing person behind these letters.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>It has all made me realize how much I want to go visit the place that birthed such and exceptional mathematician, so I come before you with a proposition:</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Would it be okay if took a purely professional trip to Hybern?</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>As I said, no funny business. I will be an absolute gentleman and won’t ask about the secret theorem you’re working on (that one you refuse to tell me about because it’s “too personal" to put on a piece of paper like this) until the second day, scout’s honor.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>I’ll await your next letter expectantly, sitting by my mailbox until I get it. So if students at VU aren’t getting a proper education, it’s because of a certain Hybern woman who’s got me under her spell.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Yours dearly,</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Rhysand Knight</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <hr/>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After a full packed day of research, Feyre was not looking forward to having dinner with her whole family. She loved her sisters and she loved her dad, just not together in the same room.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She had gotten Rhysand’s letter that same morning and her mind was already spinning and thinking of all the things she’ll show him when he came, as well as the response to the letter she’d write when dinner was over, no matter how late.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Feyre took her keys out and opened her door, shouting “I’m home!” so no one got scared at the noise of the door closing and heading upstairs to her room to leave her stuff.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She had plans to move out next month, and that was the information the government had because she had filled all the forms, but the apartment she was going to rent suddenly became unavailable, so she’ll have to make do with a few more months at home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She stepped into the kitchen and saw both her sisters had a glass of wine and were sipping on it while stirring the pot that had her favorite dish on it. Her father, however sat on the mahogany table, reading the newspaper.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Tell me that’s spätzle I smell?” she asked, taking a deep breath in. “You’d be my very favorite sisters if it were…” She then kissed her father on the head while he winked at her. She had always been his favorite, being the youngest of the three and also the last to leave the nest, taking care of him and his bad leg even when her sisters were home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nesta hummed. “Oh yeah? And what would you do for your very favorite sisters? Maybe they could be exempt from dinner every week?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Elain stomped on Nesta’s foot, sending her a nasty look that indicated she should be less direct, as much as she agreed. “What Nesta means is you should help set the table. That way we can get started as soon as it’s done.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Feyre did what her sisters asked and helped serve all the food into their plates, setting them on their respective seats. When they were all seated they started eating.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They made polite conversation all through dinner, a few comments here and there, until the radio was turned on to fill the uncomfortable, tense silence.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>“… we are Hybern people, and we do not yield. The war was more than two decades ago yet we are still dragging our debts because they were ridiculously large.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>How are we supposed to flourish as a nation when all the others are poisoning us? Families split apart when their fathers have to work 12 hours a day to pay for something they don’t even remember. How is that fair?</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>Our country is home to the best people in the planet, our race is superior to any others. Everyone envies our looks, we’re strong, tall, blonde, blue eyes… Isn’t that the dream for a lot of people in countries like Prythian? Aren’t actors and actresses like those the most coveted?</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>And yet, here we are. How’s that possible? Because we have infiltrators in our midst. They’ve lived with us our whole lives, they’ve walked with us, gone to school with us… The Jews look kind of like us, but they’re not. They’re not superior like we are. They’re so ingrained in our society that we don’t question why they are and now it’s normal.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>If we really want to beat our external enemies, we must first beat our internal ones. Don’t settle for less, my people. We should have what we want and leave the scraps to those who are undeserving.</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>I hope everyone tunes in next week for more instructions on how to make our dream happen. Until then, heil Hybern.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When the radio cut off, the three sisters looked at each other.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Nesta was pale skinned, a brutally beautiful face that could cut you like the sharpest knife, her nose was straight and thin and honestly looked like a queen would in a movie. She had an almost feline grace to how she moved and everyone that saw her was left wanting.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Elain, being the middle child, was all about not being noticed; she wore her beautiful, silky hair in a loose braid, her clothes were always proper and clean, nothing too extravagant with colors that helped her blend in. People would say she was lovely, but bland. However, they hadn’t seen her snap at men who would pick flowers from her gardens or they would’ve thought different.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Feyre was a happy medium between her older sisters: she had a softer face than Nesta, but her icy blue eyes could burn when she got angry or passionate about something. She didn’t wear the straight cut clothes Nesta would, but she also didn’t go with the fashion, she had her own boyish yet cute style.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>However, all three sisters had one thing in common: they were Jew. Both her parents were born and raised Jew, so by default, they’d been too. It wasn’t something they were ashamed of, yet for the first time in their lives, they looked at each other and felt terrified and uncertain of what their future might hold, only because they were born on the wrong side of the church.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is still a set up chapter, but next one we’ll get right to the exciting stuff. I hope you like it &amp; please leave a comment! ILY guys.</p><p>PS: Cafetería = coffee place in spanish so CafeTEAria is a very bad bilingual pun</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Mr. Knight,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m so glad to hear from you. These letters too have been for me a special oasis because, as you might know, there’s an undercurrent here in Hybern that’s stirring things that are better left buried, which is making our lives a little more complicated than it used to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would be very glad to welcome you here, but that secret theorem… You might have to work for it a little. Maybe first you should have dinner with my family, sweat a little. Then a tour around the city, always professional of course, strictly educational. Perhaps then I could take you to my office at the university, and show you, if you’re that eager.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>However, I too am curious about your work and if you decide to come I will have a battery of questions at my disposal so you won’t get bored with all the sightseeing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would May be a good time for you? The best days for us would be between May 1st and May 20th, because we have our exam period starting in June and I would need to prepare a lot of stuff beforehand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hopeful to meet you soon (in person),</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Feyre Archeron</em>
</p><hr/><p>Mondays were the best for Rhysand. That’s right, he’s always been an unconventional man, but everyone in his life told him that his love of Mondays was too much to bear. However, he kept rejoicing because everything good in his life seemed to happen on a Monday.</p><p>For example, today he had woken up to the smell of fresh eggs and bacon, which Cassian had made because he was bored out of his mind; then he checked the mail and there was Feyre’s letter, sitting in his mailbox for him to open and discover that she wanted him to go to Hybern. Immediately he had gone to talk to Azriel, who was a pilot, and got a reservation for a flight to Hybern on May 5th.</p><p>Then Rhys got in his car and drove to the best job in the world: teaching at university. He loved his job because of people who went to college, specially studentsin his math degree, were dedicated and interested. They asked him adequate and legitimate questions because they paid attention to him, they talked to him after class. Confiding in him with their most wild theories, excitement in their eyes palpable, hoping to discover something that could earn them his trust and get them a shot at doing research with him.</p><p>He wasn’t that much older than some of the young men and women he taught, so that made him more approachable. He was, in conclusion, one of the most coveted teachers, and he loved it.</p><p>“And that is all for today, class. Good work everybody, I’ll see you tomorrow to go over differential equations. Thank you.” said Rhys.</p><p>The class started to empty as his students left for their next class while he collected all his things from the teacher’s table and put them in his dark brown leather briefcase. He was closing it when a voice interrupted his thoughts on Euler’s formula.</p><p>“Excuse me, is this where I can find professor Mr. Fancypants?” said a deep voice filled with amusement.</p><p>“Ha, ha, Cassian,” mumbled Rhys while picking up a stray chalk he had left behind. “I swear, that joke got old the first time you said it, now it’s just sad. So, are you ready for lunch?”</p><p>“Thought you’d never ask, brother” chuckled Cassian, throwing his arm around Rhys’ shoulder and pulling him towards the parking lot.</p><p>They got in and drove to the nearest diner, a small place that stood there since forever, a place where they shared so many memories they could not stop going, even if the food wasn’t the best.</p><p>“Okay so, did I tell you about this girl I’m writing to in Hybern? She’s a crazy talented mathematician who-”</p><p>“Dude, yes. This Fairy chick, right?” interrupted Cassian, while flagging down the waitress so she could take their orders.</p><p>“First of all, it’s Feyre, not Fairy. Second of all, she’s not just some chick, she could very well be the next Nobel Prize in maths, the very first woman to actually get it,” explained Rhys, while he dragged his palm through his face, exasperation clear. “Anyway, we’ve been writing back and forth and the last time I suggested visiting her and she actually thinks it’s a great idea! So I bought plane tickets to go see her next month, and the dean said I could go, so it’s set in stone” he babbled excitedly.</p><p>He took a look at his best friend’s worried face and frowned.</p><p>“Why aren’t you more excited, dude? I’m basically meeting the love of my life in less than a month and you’re sulking like a freaking kid who just got his ice cream stolen.”</p><p>Cassian stared at him for a few seconds and then sighed, putting his menu down.</p><p>“You know how I got promoted last month? To general?”</p><p>Rhys nodded, frown still etched on his beautiful face.</p><p>“Well,” continued Cassian, “that means I get all the intel before it gets to the soldiers, and there’s this um, resistance, growing in Hybern, man. Things are starting to get suspicious and not exceptionally pretty... I don’t think it’s the best idea to go there now.”</p><p>“What? What have you heard?” worried Rhysand, realizing the warning in Feyre’s letter might have been more important than he had given it credit to.</p><p>“You know I can’t tell you, man. Just know that you shouldn’t mess with fate like that. It’s not completely safe,” he answered, carefully avoiding spilling national secrets.</p><p>“Well, I can’t really leave the love of my life there the, can I? I’m leaving anyway and I’ll assess the situation, give you some good intel to take to your boss”, resolved Rhys.</p><p>“Dude, you haven’t even met her-”</p><p>“Shut up. I’m going, and it’s final.”</p><p>Cassian sighed, accepting defeat, knowing very well how stubborn his brother could get, and prayed to God he would come out of it alive.</p><hr/><p>The same way Fridays were family dinner day, Monday was sister tea time; so after Feyre was done with her research for the morning she headed across campus, to the cutest place called Cafetearia, where they served all kinds and types of tea and coffee.</p><p>She walked slowly, taking in the wonderful weather they were finally getting and the slight rush of wind that was blowing in her face. Just as she was about to turn into the street where the tiny place was at she saw a young blonde couple hanging a bannerfrom their balcony. It had the strangest symbol on it, one that reminded her of the ancient Rome depiction of the sun in their textile and coins. She reminded herself to look it up and do some research on it, see what it meant; although she had a feeling that it was nothing good, if she were to judge by the aspect of the pair.</p><p>When she got the the shop her sisters were already seated at her usual table, which was weird, since Feyre usually arrived first.</p><p>“Hey sis! Did the on-time bug bite you?” she chuckled while taking a seat.</p><p>Their unsmiling faces made her suspicious.</p><p>“Feyre…” started her sister Elain. “We have something to tell you.”</p><p>Nesta nodded.</p><p>“You’re probably not going to want to hear this, but,” she paused for a second, which made for a very dramatic silence, “we need to leave Hybern. Now.”</p><p>Feyre opened her mouth in protest but Nesta cut her off.</p><p>“It’s not safe anymore, we need to.”</p><p>Elain grabbed her hand carefully and squeezed it.</p><p>“And we want you to come with us”</p><p>“Oh, hell no. No-huh. I can’t” exclaimed Feyre.</p><p>“But-” protested Elain.</p><p>“No! What about dad? You know he won’t go and I cannot bear to leave him behind” continued Feyre.</p><p>“Feyre, listen to me. Things are worse than you know. There are these new symbols popping up everywhere, the swastikas, and you know what those mean?” asked Nesta, frustration lacing her voice at her sister’s stubbornness.</p><p>“You mean the roman suns?”</p><p>“Yes, those same ones. Renaissance hasn’t made a comeback, Feyre. Those mean that the people who are supporting the one who calls himself the King of Hybern, want what he’s preaching; and that’s us dead,” explained Nesta, “we have to leave before it’s too late.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve already booked us tickets for next week… Are you in?”</p><p>A few seconds pass until Feyre looks up from her cup, silver lining her eyes.</p><p>“I can’t. You go,” she declares. “You go and I’ll stay with dad until Rhysand comes so I have more time to convince him to leave with me. Then, we’ll take a flight to… where are you going to?”</p><p>Nesta sighs.</p><p>“Prythian”</p><p>“Yes! That’s great! Rhysand is from Prythian so I’m sure he’ll help me convince dad and we’ll meet you there,” finished Feyre, determination etched on her face while she stood up to pay the cashier for their teas.</p><p>The older sisters shared a private look filled with concern for her idealist younger sister, wishing her extremely loyal heart wouldn’t kill her this time.</p>
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